Oliver's Exotic Adventure
by Morag X. Henegev
Summary: Oliver comes to work at Hogwarts, where Fleur gets intersted in him, while he's interested in *someone* else. Oliver/Severus slash, r/r (ps - Oliver in kilt)
1. Prologue

It begun to rain with heavy wind, chilling over his skin and striking onto his bones. Oliver was returning home, by foot. What was good using the broom? He was not good enough to play for the Puddlemere United, therefore why would he fly that blasted invention. Though, in this harsh Highland weather, he could easier connect to his grief.   
  
"Oliver! Whit happened!" said a woman in her forties when he came inside a stone house. Her face features were sharp with defined chin and eyebrows. Her dark hair was tied in the tail.   
  
"Naethin', maw," Oliver said indifferently, putting aside his broom. He didn't throw it, but tidily put it where it always stood.   
  
"Yar drooched tae eh bain, Oliver" she said, going somewhere and appearing back a second later, carrying a blanket.   
  
"Thanks" said he, as she wrapped it around him.   
  
"Noo go upstairs an' change," she demanded pushing him towards the narrow staircases.   
  
Oliver did what she told him to without much thinking or questioning. Eventually words like 'fuckin Aherne' would escape his lips, but nothing else.   
  
  
  
Oliver was summoned down for the tea. His mother, Agnes, and his father, Golly, were sitting at the table. His younger sister, Miranda, was stretched on the sofa, reading something.   
  
"Ur ye better noo, hen?" his mother asked, pouring hot soup into his plate.   
  
Oliver nodded.   
  
"Be a cheil, son. Be prood, don't lit 'at Gabriel Aherne defeat ye, lad. Jist because ye didn't gie eh chance tae be oan eh team, fur third year in eh raw, doesn't pure techt 'at he's better 'en ye. Yoo're a brae laddie, eh bluid ay scottish clan chi s runs ben yer veins... Remember yer great-grandpa, Duncan... eh chieftain ower eh chieftains... he coods sly aw eh Sassenach wankers in ower swin' ay eh sword," his father said.   
  
"Aye," nodded Oliver carelessly.   
  
"Golly nae noo. Ye trysted me ye won't speak ever again abit bloodshed at eh table," Agnes sighed, sitting down herself, and starting on the dinner.   
  
"Och, an' ye Campbell's betrayed Scootlund in 1746... Bonnie Prince Charlie got defeated because ay ye... Culloden feel," Golly was saying.   
  
"Jesus, foo mony times dae Ah huv tae teel ye 'at i'm nae ay 'AT bloodline?" Agnes snarled at him and Golly kept quiet for the rest of the dinner.   
  
It was same to Oliver if his parents would be yelling at each other, or just sitting in uncomfortable silence, broken only by Miranda's humming. He didn't care.   
  
"When yoo're finished eh tatties an' neebs, i'd like ye tae come tae eh livin' room, tae try yer kilt oan. Ye ken, it's ready. It looks pure nice in uir clan coloors..." his mother said, leaving him along with his father, as Miranda went to her room and played her music loudly.   
  
"Whit dae Ah need new kilt fur?" Oliver finally spoke.   
  
"It's Aunt Maighread's weddin' eh morn, ye ooght tae wear somethin' new."  
  
"But faither, wa didn't anyain teel me anythin' abit it?"   
  
"Och Ah don't ken, mebbe because thes is eh first time in months we see ye at yam. Yoo're aye it practisin' quidditch. Son, it's nae everythin' in Quidditch - it's in Scoottish pride."   
  
Oliver didn't comment this, just went of to try on the kilt.   
  
His mother snatched him in the living room, taking his pants off, and dressing him in traditional Scottish attire. Oliver protested about her seeing him naked (you don't wear anything under the kilt), but she snapped at him how she's his mother. Did he complain when she was chaning his diapers?   
  
"Nae bad," he said emotionlessly. He wore streaked red kilt and red stockings, with black shoes that lace. He had white shirt on and toga-like cape over his shoulder, done in the same tartan pattern and colours as his kilt.   
  
"Yoo'll be eh bonniest lad thaur, every birdie will be lookin' at ye, at eh weddin'," his mother said proudly, and called his father to join her adoring their son.   
  
"Am Ah pure nae alood tae wear anythin' under?" Oliver asked cautiously.   
  
If his father haven't slapped him now, he never will. But he was too appalled to move or act mad.   
  
"Ay coorse," his mother said stiffly through her teeth.   
  
Oliver noticed the awkwardness of the situation, so he added:  
  
"Whit if eh wint blows an'-"  
  
"Be prood ay it, bairn," Golly tapped him fatherly on his shoulder and smiled again.   
  
  
  
Miranda was sitting on the chair, sucking onto a lollipop, and trying to unsaw all the threads of her tartan dress. As always, no one was any paying attention to her. If they would, bunch of angry aunts and cousins would scream at her not to do that to her traditional wear.   
  
Oliver was talking to the bride and groom, who were smiling mirthfully. Then he spotted someone else amongst the guests.   
  
"Hello Professor McGonagall," he said, shaking her hand.   
  
"Hello, Oliver," she replied happily, seeing her former student.   
  
"Hello Minerva," said Agnes, elbowing past her son.   
  
"Oh Agnes, long time no see."   
  
"How's Tracy."   
  
"Good, Agnes..."   
  
In that moment Agnes shrieked angrily and excused herself hastily. Minerva and Oliver followed her with their eyes, as she ran to Miranda. Miranda got smacked lightly over her head for ruining her tartan. Few of her aunts came over to her and started preaching her how that is wrong.   
  
Oliver looked over the other side of the field where the wedding was, under the white tent, his father was getting pissed drunk. He was singing, with his mates, 'The Flower of Scotland'.   
  
"You look sad, laddie" said Minerva quietly to Oliver, not interesting to what were row of women doing to Miranda - lecturing her.   
  
"Och, I'm jist tired," answered he, trying to conceal his disappointment because of being rejected to join the team again. But he knew he could not hide anything from Minerva. She was like a mother to him; they've gotten really close in last several years.   
  
"I am sorry you didn't get on the team."   
  
Oliver scrutinised her face for a moment and saw some traits of beauty, but mostly compassion.   
  
"You know, Madam Hooch just resigned and we don't have anyone to teach Flying for next year. I'd be delighted if you'd come to Hogwarts, you'd immidiately take over her responsibilities" she said, smiling.   
  
Oliver thought for a second - he could not say no to her.   
  
"Fine," he said and smiled. She hugged him, but when she couldn't see his face, he made an expression of defeat. 


	2. The Rough Meeting

Notes: I wrote Oliver's speech in Scots just to make him more realistic (don't we all love when he says 'Bloodger'?). It's not that hard to read it, really. If Irvine Welsh could write in it and get so many of us to read his books, so there we have it. The key to understanding it is to read it either loud or inside, and when read, everything seems more comprehendable.   
  
  
Disclaimer: the characters I am screwing up with are not mine. Don't sue!  
  
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"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Minerva," sighed Oliver. He was ushered into the chambers that will be called his personal during his stay at Hogwarts.  
  
"Rubbish, lad," she snarled at him.   
  
He looked around the simple room with four-poster bed and big closet. View was on the Quidditch Pitch. Oliver went closer to view outside.   
  
"Remember your third year when you got sick and wanted to watch the Gryffindor-Slytherin game, but I would not let you. You said how you wish Gryffindor common room had view on the Quidditch Pitch..."   
  
"Yeah... Gryffindor won, though..." Oliver sighed happily, reminding himself of the merry days when he would plan out his glorious Quidditch future with Fred and George.   
  
"Ach, you were always a weird sort... got it from your mother's side of Campbells. Your father may go on and on about Scottish pride of Woods, but you're a true Campbell," said Minerva.   
  
"Well, I better be off. I'll send Severus here to give you the teaching timetable. Please unpack and don't just throw clothes around as you always do. You know, when they made a closet, they made it with a purpose," she said, tapping his shoulder.   
  
Before she left he added: "Bye, Auntie."  
  
Oliver, ignoring completely what Minerva said, opened his trunk and begun to take things out of it. Clothing was falling everywhere around. Pants, shirts, robes, ties, shawls, kilts, socks, cloaks, boxers, and every other clothing item was covering the furniture.   
  
A rhythmic knock was heard from his door.   
  
"Come in," Oliver said automatically. Profession Snape walked in, his long robes and cloak dragging after him.   
  
"Severus... Glad tae see ya... I can call ya Severus, of coorse ... Or ya wish tae be called Professor Snape," said Oliver merrily, closing the door after his former Professor.   
  
Snape said nothing, just grunted gloomily, and handed him his teaching timetable.   
  
"Thanks," responded Oliver, taking it in his hands. Severus was standing there, saying nothing, as Oliver went over the timetable.   
  
"It's not really too busy... not too much to teach..." commented Oliver as he noticed Severus scrutinising his clothes.   
  
"You Scots still wear these skirts," muttered Severus derisively.   
  
"We call 'em kilts in Scootlund," laughed Oliver, throwing the piece of parchment on the night table.   
  
"The feast is starting at eight o'clock tonight. We ought to see you there on time."  
  
That was all he said, and before he exited he added: "Don't wear the skirt."  
  
Oliver rolled his eyes, jumping down on the bed, over his clothes, and studying his timetable for some time.   
  
Tomorrow, he would have only two classes - with Hufflepuffs and Slytherins in their first year and Gryffindors and Slytherins in their sixth year. 'Hmm...' he thought, 'Harry Potter will be there.'  
  
  
  
He descended to the Great Hall fifteen minutes before seven. Minerva showed him to his seat and hurried off to meet the first years.   
  
Oliver sat down and looked around him. He noticed a familiar face abreast of him.   
  
"See, I'm wearin' keks (translation: keks - pants)," Oliver said to Severus who sat beside him.   
  
"Good for you," replied Severus darkly.   
  
"Hey, we can be mates now... there is nae rivalry between us. Even thought you are the head of the Slytherin, I am nae longer in Gryffindor. I am a teacher now, too."   
  
"Well in that case I really wish you a nice staying at Hogwarts," said Severus exposing row of sharp teeth.   
  
Next moment the great doors opened and the students walked in. Oliver saw many familiar faces taking seats at their tables.   
  
Sorting went smoothly but eventlessly.   
  
"Yet another year at Hogwarts..." said the old man, Dumbledore, getting up to give his annual speech.   
  
"As many of us know, Madam Hooch resigned from her position. We got another teacher to take her position. Mr Wood, whom many of you already know, would you please get up..."  
  
Oliver got up and smiled, as he listened for the long applause. The entire Gryffindor table was cheering.   
  
"That is not our only change amongst the teachers. We have the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, too..."  
  
Many people groaned.  
  
"...Fleur Delacoeur!"  
  
Mainly boys cheered at her. Number of girls, who either knew Fleur from few years ago and who did not, scoffed at her prettiness.   
  
Dumbledore said few other things, which included bunch of unimportant things.   
  
Throughout the dinner, Oliver tried to engage Severus in conversation with clever and discourteous lines like: "Ah think I'll wear mae kilt tomorrow. Weather'll be nice, accept for the breeze... what do ye thin, Severus?" and "'At meatloaf looks like it's looking at me." Then he noticed Fleur smiling at him from the other end of the table.   
  
After the dinner she approached him.   
  
"'Allo," she said to him, as they were walking towards the teachers' quarters, putting her brittle hand on his broad shoulder.   
  
"Hello," he replied.   
  
"Nice day, today," she continued.   
  
"Very nice..." replied Oliver. Somehow he did not enjoy her company. She was pretty, hot, all that, but somehow she seemed too shallow to him. He could probably fuck her and then call it quits.   
  
"Would you like to come over to my room for a drink?" she asked making that thrilling smile.   
  
"Uhm... I'd loove tae... but erm... I've got tae talk tae Professor Dumbledore," he said apologetically, making a one-second smile, and running away from her in opposite direction.   
  
Later, he could not explain himself this decision. And he could've fucked her, it was all in her eyes. But yet, he have chosen to flee away from her.   
  
He decided that when he is already back downstairs to seek after Dumbledore to ask him about the next week's teachers' meeting. He could have asked that Fleur, too, but he preferred the old man Dumbly, as Fred and George would call him.   
  
Dumbledore was not in his office. Oliver made sure in that after he opened it with the password. Next he went to seek for Minerva, but she was nowhere to be found. He did not dare to look for her at her chambers because Fleur may be around there.   
  
Then an idea came to him - he could ask Severus. Sure, he found it rather interesting to irritate the poor bat-like guy. Oliver had to admit to himself, he would love to wash Severus' hair personally.   
  
  
  
"Come in," came a chilling voice through the rough door. Oliver opened them, stepping out of the dungeons, and into Severus' office.   
  
"Anything bothering you?" said Severus rather awelessly upon seeing Oliver.   
  
"Guid day Sev, I thought that you kent what time is the teachers' meeting next week?" said Oliver, sitting down opposite of Severus.   
  
"When did you start calling me 'Sev'?" Snarled Severus in acid voice.   
  
"Okay, don't fuss. Sir Snape, I thought you might possibly know at what time shall the teachers' meeting, next week, be held?" said Oliver, even fixing his accent to sound pure Oxford.   
  
"Five o'clock," Severus replied stiffly, quill in his hand dangling over the blank sheet of parchment.   
  
"Ah thought that that was better than the Claymore..."  
  
"Is that all you wanted?"   
  
"Pretty much..."  
  
"So why did you come to me? Couldn't you have gone to your Aunt Minerva?" Severus sneered.   
  
"Ah couldn't fin' her. I ran away from Miss Delacoeur... I ran away from her because she was tryin' tae rape me," answered Oliver earnestly.   
  
"So you're not interested in girls?" Severus sneered even wider.   
  
"Guid day, don't be sae quick tae make decisions!" Jumped Oliver, somewhat alarmed.   
  
They stared at each other for a minute. Oliver spoke then: "Whay about you?"  
  
"IWhat/I about me?"  
  
"Whit side do you swing on?" asked Oliver holding one of his eyebrows up.   
  
Severus gave a relaxed, derisive laugh. Then he snarled: "Get out of my office!"  
  
Oliver, not knowing why, stayed there. He guessed it must be curiosity.   
  
"Don't be sae harsh, Sev."   
  
Severus stared at the younger man for several minutes.   
  
"Why are you interested to know?" he smirked suddenly, getting his evil face on. Oliver felt alarmed again. He didn't know what to answer.   
  
"I don't know, maybe I'm interested in you?"   
  
He exited mystically, going to his chambers and getting to sleep. Just as he laid down he realised that what he just have said sounded really gay.   
  
"Oh man..." he sighed, lying on the bed full of clothes, and falling asleep. 


	3. Draco and the Commencement

Disclaimer: nothing's mine.   
  
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"Now, hold your hand paralell over the broom and say up," Oliver was saying, remembering what Madam Hooch was telling them the first class. He didn't really prepare, as he was supposed to, just went by his instincts.   
  
"Up," came from then and there, as twenty first years were saying in their small voices.   
  
"No, not like that..." Oliver said, running away to a first year Slytherin girl, with her dark hair in a pony tail.   
  
"You're supposed to say it gently... not snap at it Miss..."   
  
"Wilks," said the first year girl in a feeble.   
  
"Miss Wilks... now say it gently..."  
  
"Up," said the girl gently, but the broom was still lying on the grass. When Oliver turned around, she continued snapping at the broom and the broom eventually flew into her hand.   
  
Oliver was looking and correcting other students. Later he showed them the proper way to mount their brooms and they were flying around for some time.   
  
After the class, a murky Slytherin approached him.   
  
"Do you really know Gabriel Aherne?" the boy asked.   
  
Oliver made a scrunched up face for a second, but answered: "Yes, I do know him."   
  
"Could you make him come over to Hogwarts?" asked the guy sweetly, as many other students came to hear what was that about.   
  
"Sure," said Oliver, having a nasty feeling in his throat. But he still managed a polite smile.   
  
When every student was gone to their next class, only one girl was left. She approached Oliver as he was picking up students' brooms.   
  
"I think you should've made the Puddlemere Uniter team, Professor, instead of Aharne. You are a much better Quidditch Player," she said to him, making a puppy face.   
  
"Well thank you very much Wilks," Oliver smiled. Just the comment of a little girl made his day tiny bit brighter.   
  
Oliver spend his spare period in his room sleeping. He wasn't used to getting up so early. When he woke up it was time to go and have a lunch.   
  
Severus, in the Great Hall, greeted him with a nasty smile.   
  
"You know, we have mirrors at Hogwarts."  
  
Oliver, feeling a bit uneasy in front of Severus because of thing he said last night, knew immediately what Severus was referring to. He smoothed his hair quickly and glanced at food. He didn't really care what he was pouring in to eat because he was really hungry.   
  
"You missed breakfast," Severus commented after some time.   
  
"I slept in," Oliver responded, mouthful.   
  
"Does the sun rise later in Scotland?" Severus asked cynically, not looking at Oliver. Oliver has just noticed that Snape wasn't eating anything.   
  
"No... we just go to bed later because we drink and party every night," Oliver said sarcastically after swallowing a large bite.   
  
"Don't you try to outwit me with sarcasm!" Snape suddenly snapped at Oliver.   
  
Oliver chuckled lightly. He was never like this with Snape when he was his student. But he never hated Snape that much because Snape never found him too fond to pick on.   
  
"I am sorry, Professor. I assure you that it won't happen again," said Oliver in frank voice.   
  
They finished their meal with saying nothing else. Oliver finished quickly and fled away from Fleur who was scrutinising him as she was eating, from the other side of the table. Her glare was opaque.  
  
Oliver went then and took out the brooms for the two upcoming classes. Actually only few brooms were needed for them. Oliver had the exact list of brooms that the students possessed and that they were supposed to bring to the class.   
  
"Nice Nimbus 3000, Potter," greeted Oliver upon Gryffindors arriving for their lesson.   
  
"Thanks..." smiled Harry and took a stand where they [Harry, Ron, and Hermione] always stood.   
  
The rest of the class arrived. Slytherins lined up opposite of Gryffindors. Oliver noticed Draco Malfoy clutching an Iron Falcon. A type that was only produced in ten copies. Seven were bought of by Danish Quidditch team, one was in hands of a famous broom collector, one belonged to our favourite snotty Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, and the last one was not bought yet. Currently, wizards from everywhere were bidding on it.   
  
Oliver gave away four brooms to people that didn't have one. He gave one to Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan (who blew up his old one), and an ashamed Slytherin.   
  
Oliver started telling them about the tricks to steady the course when the wind is too harsh. He was going on and on how it's really important to stay on the course by steadying your body movement and concentrating, when the famous 'blah-blah-blah-my-father-blah-blah-blah' drawl finally started to irritate him.   
  
"Mister Malfoy, what do you think you are doing?" Oliver asked in stern tone, eyeing Malfoy Jr displeasingly. Whole class stared at Malfoy who was boasting off to Pansy Parkinson.   
  
Malfoy turned his stare to Oliver and said: "Nothing, Oliver."   
  
"Professor Wood, for you."  
  
"Come on, we're old buddies," Draco sneered.   
  
"Ten point off Slytherin, Malfoy," growled Oliver silently and continued talking to the class.   
  
Malfoy was quietly for some time, that didn't exceed length of thirty seconds, when he started telling something to Crabbe and Goyle.   
  
"Malfoy, that is another ten points off Slytherin. Next time I hear you utter a single word, I'm taking you immediately for a talk with your Head."  
  
"I have understood Professor... what's your last name again," sneered Draco.   
  
Oliver drew a deep breath and said and calmly as he could: "Potter, I want you take over the class as I take *Draco* to the Head of Slytherin."   
  
Oliver then trailed off with Draco following him casually.   
  
Oliver walked with Draco behind him without turning around. When they reached Snape's dungeon -   
  
"Go and fetch Severus Snape."   
  
Oliver uttered this in such voice that Draco did not protest.   
  
Before going away, Draco gave Oliver a dark look, and still clutching his broom, went inside Snape's dungeon.   
  
Minute later, Snape appeared, followed by Draco.   
  
"What is all this about... my student tells me some interesting things," Snape said in perfectly calm voice.   
  
"Your [i]student[/i] is being rude and he does not seem to know what it means when he's told to shut up," said Oliver, his serenity matching Snape's. But inside his blood was boiling.   
  
"Draco, go back to your class," Snape ordered and Draco did so. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"   
  
"Yes," answered Oliver and started following Snape as the older man led him to his office.   
  
Snape closed the door of the office behind him, and Oliver started: "I think that his bahaviour is rude and inappropriate..."  
  
"Cut the shit," Snape sighed, pulling Oliver towards him and kissing him.   
  
Oliver was being held by his shoulders close to Severus, as Severus was not getting his mouth off Oliver's, creating a vacuum.   
  
It took Oliver some time to notice what was happening to him and to push himself away.   
  
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" snarled Oliver as he finally pushed himself away from Severus.   
  
Severus licked his lips and responded: "You said you were interested in me..."  
  
"I didn't mean it..."  
  
"Oh, really? And why are you here?" Severus sneered.   
  
"Because I want to talk to you about Draco Malfoy," Oliver said, wiping his mouth off his sleeve.   
  
"This has nothing to do with Draco Malfoy... don't tell me there was absolutely no other way for you to deal with him then coming to me? He didn't castrate Harry Potter, he just didn't shut up," Snape made a point. And Oliver saw it.   
  
Of course, that would explain why he had no intentions of screwing Fleur last night.   
  
"And what were you doing in my office last night?" Snape asked, going closer to Oliver who just stood there.   
  
"I wanted to know what time is the teachers' meeting..." Oliver spat looking straight into Severus' dark eyes.   
  
"Oh really? Wasn't there Auntie Minerva to ask that?"   
  
"She wasn't there... neither was Dumbledore..."   
  
"So wasn't there any other teacher available with whom you were getting along at least a wee bit better then with me?" Snape said cynically, taking a hold of Oliver's shoulder again. Severus was slightly taller then Oliver.   
  
"I don't know... I just wanted to bug you..." Oliver answered, closing his eyes.   
  
"Bug me.... eh? Or tease me?" he asked, putting another hand on another shoulder of Oliver's.   
  
"You evil old man..."  
  
"You see my point there, laddie..." smirked Snape.   
  
Oliver stood there and opened his mouth without a word. Snape knew what to do - he kissed Oliver. Oliver enjoyed Snape's tongue playing inside his mouth, going everywhere.   
  
Snape slowly loosened the grip of Oliver's shoulders, travelling with his palms over Oliver's broad back.   
  
After some time Severus let go of Oliver, but Oliver just stood there, eyes closed, his mouth still moving.   
  
"You want more?" sneered Severus.   
  
Oliver nodded pulling Severus' body to his.   
  
"I believe we both class to teach," Severus said lightly and ushered Oliver outside.   
  
Oliver retreated and went back to teaching his class.   
  
Draco wasn't making any more problems. 


	4. Flower of our Country

Oliver could not clear his mind from what has happened as he was going towards the Great Hall for dinner. And yet he was terribly afraid of confronting Severus.   
  
Severus was sitting there, at his normal seat, chatting to no one else than Fleur Delacoeur. She was giggling giddily and gesticulating actively.   
  
"Oh, 'ello Oliver. Severus was just telling me how excellent flier you are," Fleur said to Oliver as he took his seat.   
  
Oliver looked at Severus who was smiling entrancingly.   
  
"Thank you very much on that compliment," replied Oliver carelessly, and started, out of no where, staring at the students who were coming to take their seats for the dinner.   
  
Oliver, tried to make eye contact with Harry Potter, who sat extremely close him and it worked. With their stares, they exchanged several sentences of common nature. When Harry was finally engaged into a conversation with Ron and Hermione, and unable to continue his chit-chat with Oliver, Oliver had to face the doom of sitting close to Fleur.   
  
She was talking to Severus about some French crap, as Oliver saw it. He tried desperately not listen to her.   
  
The terrible dinner was over and Oliver headed back to his chambers. Just as he grabbed his new issue of Quidditch Magazine, there was a knock on his door. His face screw into a smile because he just knew it was Snape.   
  
But it wasn't.   
  
"Professor, I was wondering if you could sign me an autograph?" said a feeble voice when he opened the door.   
  
Oliver looked down seeing a small girl standing in front of him.   
  
"Oh... oh course... Miss..." he stuttered taking the piece of parchment and a quill she held.   
  
"Wilks..." she smiled.   
  
He signed and she thanked him.   
  
He closed the door and started reading an article about Graham Mullan, when a rather revelling thought came to his head - how did little girl know where his chamber is. He jumped up, to try to catch her, but just as he opened the door, someone was standing there.   
  
"Maybe you should tell Trelawney about your divination abilities..." came the well-known, cynical voice.   
  
Oliver smiled sourly - it was Severus.   
  
"Well, won't you invite me in?" the man asked.   
  
"Of course..." replied Oliver.   
  
"Nice place you got here. No skirts lying around this time..." Severus commented, making himself at hom by sitting down on a comfy sofa.   
  
"Well, I thought how much you hate them, so I put them away," said Oliver casually, sitting on the sofa, close to Severus.   
  
"I always wondered... do you, Scots, wear anything under that wee skirt of yours?"  
  
"No... why'd ya ask?" smiled Oliver, moving slowly towards the other man.   
  
"It was bugging me, if you wear nothing, how do you go and pick that Scottish flower of yours?"   
  
"Thistle, the flower of our country?"   
  
"Yes, that one."  
  
"I don't know. Maybe one day you can join me and try it for yourself," answer Oliver and put his mouth beside Severus'. Severus closed his eyes, and kissed him for the second time.   
  
It was quite a different experience for Oliver to be kissed by a guy. It was revolutionary, so strong and virile.   
  
Oliver leaned down, as Severus started unbuttoning his shirt, and kissing his chest slowly. He put his hands into Severus' hair.   
  
'God, I'll make him wash it one day...' Oliver was thinking. Severus played on his chest with his tongue, up and down, creating those tinkling patterns.   
  
"I was just wondering," Severus asked suddenly, "did you ever get it blown."  
  
"Of course I did," replied Oliver, feeling a bit flinchy on a thought of a man touching his privates.   
  
The older man smiled nastily, and said: "Have you ever been with a man before?"  
  
"Of course I haven't, what kind of question is that," snapped Oliver, letting his zip get unflied, and his organ held.   
  
Snape lowered his mouth and did the work. Oliver haven't utterly realised what was happening to him, other than that warm tickling sensation.   
  
"Wasn't this good?" Snape sneered, getting up, and wiping his mouth off.   
  
"You see the strength of Claymore now..." joked Oliver, dizzily buttoning up his pants.   
  
"You're a brave lad. Tell me, would you die for Scotland?"   
  
"Are you making fun of me?" Oliver jumped all of a sudden.   
  
"Come down, lad, it was just a simple question."   
  
Oliver was just to respond back, but Snape twitched on the side, like someone whipped him on his shoulder.   
  
"Damn, what it is this time?" he snarled. Oliver noticed that the stone in Severus' silver ring was shinning.   
  
"Someone is calling me from the downstairs," Snape replied coldly and have gotten up.   
  
Oliver stared at him as he exited.   
  
"I am terribly sorry, we'll do it some other time," Severus sighed, closing the door behind him.   
  
Oliver sat there, bedazzled for a moment, then jumped and ran after Severus.   
  
"What do you want... they shouldn't see us together..." Severus snarled as Oliver ran and caught up with him.   
  
"Relax, mate... I'll say you summoned me to bitch at me for doing something wrong," Oliver sighed.   
  
Severus responded nothing, and Oliver followed him down the staircases. They finally arrived to the Great Hall where Filch was. He was holding two students by their ears. Unexpectedly enough, those two were Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. Ron Weasley and Gregory Goyle were crouching at the side.   
  
Draco and Harry looked bad indeed. They were bloodied up from their chins down. Harry seemed in some kind of delirium, like he couldn't see properly. It must have been because someone smashed his glasses. From all the glass, there was a thin red scar on his cheek.   
  
Draco, on the other hand, seemed fully aware of himself.   
  
"What did they do?" Severus snarled upon seeing them.   
  
"They were fighting... almost killed each other... on the other hand, I shouldn't've broke them apart, they're as good as dead," Filch commented bitterly.   
  
Snape, with quick movement, snatched Draco away from Filch and demanded an explanation.   
  
"Potter started it, Sir..." Draco bluttered automatically, but it seemed to satisfy Snape.   
  
Snape was just about ready to charge at Harry when Professor McGonagall arrived, wearing her tartan night gown.   
  
"What in the world have you two been doing?" she snarled upon seeing them.   
  
"Minerva..." Severus approached her tactfully.   
  
"This is disgrace! Potter, Weasley, to my office!" she yelled, and left as Harry, Ron, and Oliver went after her.   
  
"Thank you Filch. Goyle, you can go to your bed. Mr Malfoy, follow me," Snape ordered.   
  
In Snape's office, Draco was the first one who spoke.   
  
"It was Potter's fault."  
  
Severus motioned him to sit down, passing him a piece of cloth of wipe himself off.   
  
"I know."  
  
"So you won't deduct any point from Slytherin?" Draco asked, cleaning his face.   
  
"No. However, I should be required to speak to your father," sighed the older man, sitting down. He was resting his chin on his hands, and following Draco's every move.   
  
"How did it start?"   
  
"I told the idiot that his father was nobody, and that he's probably sucking the cocks of hell now," Draco shrugged casually.   
  
His hair was messy, and falling over his face.   
  
"Here you go, write a letter to your father and tell him I want to see him," ordered Severus, passing Draco some writing material.   
"What should I say? I don't want him to be mad at me..."  
  
"Just tell him that I need to talk to him, just for a check. The year haven't started properly yet, and you're bloodying up yourself and Potter already. Knock it out, I've told you, I'll cover up for you as long as you don't make it too obvious," Snape said.   
  
Draco gave him *that* stare.   
  
"Besides, if he's still mad at you, it's because of the poor marks you received last year."   
  
"Fine," Draco said sulkily and scribbled something down. Before Snape sent it, by his black owl, he had a look over it.   
  
"Unfortunately is spelt with one 'l'," he added cynically.   
  
Draco muttered something and went off to sleep.   
  
Snape had no energy to go back and finish off what he started with Oliver Wood. Instead he headed straight to bed.   
  
  
  
McGonagall granted usual bitching to Harry and Ron. Her decision to deduct twenty points each was doubted, after Oliver pointed her that Severus won't like take any points off Slytherin. So, Gryffindor got out with ten points each.   
  
"You know what those lads need, Oliver?" Minerva sighed after Harry and Ron left her office.   
  
"Some sex?" Oliver answered frankly.   
  
"No, some proper education. Honestly..." she snapped, eyeing him with her stern eyes.   
  
  
  
Next morning, before Oliver was teaching, Dumbledore asked him to his office.   
  
"You know, we were planning to make a little Quidditch event this season," said Dumbledore benignly, sipping some tea.   
  
"Yeah, Aunt told me all about that," Oliver replied.   
  
"And it's going to be a big game between Slytherin and Gryffindor... but the Ministry is going to come, all the important members. As all the twelve Hogwarts governors, and there has been some slight... changes amongst the Hogwarts Governors. And we were wondering if you could invite Gabriel Aherne to attend our little bash?"   
  
Colour of Oliver's face drained once again upon hearing 'Aherne', but he played it cool.   
  
"Of course. Count it done, Sir."   
  
  
  
He lazily swayed with his cane, knocking empty vials off the shelf. Severus pretended not to notice it.   
  
"So what did that idiot do again?" he asked in cold voice.   
  
"Nothing, he just picked up a fight with Potter," Severus replied, shaking slightly as Lucius was walking towards him.   
  
"And he was stupid enough to get caught? What a moron... picked it up from his mother, of course..." Lucius commented, standing even closer to Severus.   
  
"Well, I had to call you in. You know, talk with parents just so we could fix problems with you child. Anyway, better me than McGonagall..."  
  
"That old hag's still around? We'll I'll see and try get her sacked," Lucius sighed, staring into Severus' dark eyes. Lucius was smiling in weird, captivative way, as Severus' face expression was rigid.   
  
"What do you mean....?"  
  
"Oh, so you didn't hear the news? They were begging me to come back and take care of the positions... they were literally begging me to come back, say how it was their biggest mistake they sacked me. And I don't like when people beg for me," he said ecstatically, tracing sharp line on Severus' cheek with his middle finger.   
  
Lucius went for it, and kissed Severus. Severus tried to push away, knowing how much trouble Lucius got him into last time he was kissed by him, but Lucius was merciless, barring Severus' way out with his cane.   
  
Unexpectedly, someone walked in. It was Oliver Wood. He gasped, carrying sheets of white paper.   
  
"Can't you knock, you bloody skirt-wearing idiot?" Severus snarled.   
  
Lucius twitched unusually at word 'skirt-wearing'.   
  
"I just came to give you this. It's from Minerva," uttered Oliver automatically, putting the sheets on Severus' desk and leaving.   
  
"Go away, Lucius," snapped Severus at the blond man.   
  
Lucius gave him that smile again, and said: "Well we'll see again, very soon."   
  
Then he left and Severus groaned loudly. 


End file.
